d at
having been taken from it, as we supposed, without sufficient reason.

On the morning of the 6th I had a strange duty to discharge for such a
time--the marriage of a couple. One of our native Christians had
arranged for his marriage taking place at that date. I told him that
this was no time for marrying; that we who were married must abide with
our families, but that those who were intending marriage should defer it
to a more propitious season. He said all was arranged, and he begged me
to officiate, which I did, I must say, with a bad grace. No sooner was
the marriage over than I went home. After breakfast and family worship,
we each betook ourselves, thoroughly worn out, to our rooms to obtain
some rest. Scarcely had I lain down on my couch, when our faithful
watchman came to my door and exclaimed, "If you do not go at once to the
Mint you will all be killed." I asked him what was the matter. He could
not tell me. He could only say, "Fly, fly." The refugee lady who, with
her family, was with us, hearing the watchman's words, exclaimed, "Oh,
Mr. Kennedy, do not leave us!" to which I replied, "Depend on it, I will
not. Rather than that, I myself will remain behind." Our conveyance was
speedily made ready, and off we started, with such a crowded coach as
has been seldom seen, I, as driver, urging the poor overladen horse to
his utmost speed. Natives as well as Europeans were seized with panic.
There was a stream, then in full flood, close to our house, and I saw
several natives throw themselves into it to swim across, at the imminent
risk of their lives. As we crossed one of the great roads leading to the
city, the natives were running as if pursued by demons. Right before us
we saw an English lady running towards the Mint, with her bare head in
the sun, which had now come out in its strength. A gentleman in a buggy
drove past us, pulled in reins, the lady leaped into it, and they dashed
on to the place of refuge. On reaching the Mint we found most of the
Europeans there before us. I accosted a friend and said, "What does this
mean?" He told us how the impression had gone out that the enemy were on
us, and how the panic might have been prevented if information of the
state of affairs had been given. There was danger. The host coming
against us had, with characteristic procrastination, put off the attack
till the morning. To prevent their approach to the city, every man and
gun that could be spared were sent out to m